


Peter's Godfather

by Annasfanfic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-06-26 22:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19777690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annasfanfic/pseuds/Annasfanfic
Summary: Peter's Godfather has been kept away by business, but after the blip he's finally had enough and he's going to take care of his godson no matter the cost.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If there's interest for this to continue I'll explore it more, but for now it's just a one shot.  
> Teen for some swearing.

Harry stared blankly out the window of the airplane. The seatbelt sign was on and Harry had put his book away. As usual Harry had underestimated how long it would take to land the plane and disembark. They weren’t even on the ground yet and he was antsy. Well he couldn’t honestly say it was from the lack of the book, he’d been antsy the whole trip from London to New York. He only saw his second godson twice a year, and now he was changing that.

He’d told himself over the years that it was necessary. No matter how much he loved America, and New York specifically, Britain had needed him. It still hurt both of them, no matter how true they knew it to be. His mind drifted back to those eight years he’d happily lived in New York. The Parkers had been surprisingly friendly for New Yorkers and FBI agents to boot and had welcomed him into their apartment building with open arms. For too long he’d suspected that they were keeping track of him as the Boy-Who-Lived. This had been reinforced when he’d met up with them in the Magical District of Queens, they were both squibs. It’d never been confirmed or not but he had stopped caring as they had gone from acquaintances to genuine friends.

Despite them possibly spying on him, it was the least intense friendship of his life, even to this day. They’d had no harrowing life threatening moments together. They’d never worked out a mysterious plot to save the day. Instead it was an easy and relaxing friendship that had never had that intense undercurrent the rest of his friendships had. And yet there was still the respect of people who understood the pains of the cruel world. Without meaning to he’d grown to love Richard and Mary. There was nothing he missed more in the world than sitting on the terrace with them, drinking beers and making light of the terrible things they’d dealt with.

He thought of them as his brother and sister and so he’d been just as overjoyed as they were when Mary had gotten pregnant. On June 1st they’d welcomed Peter Parker into the world and Harry had been honored to become his godfather. Only two years later Peter’s parents, Harry’s best friends, had died. Harry and May and Ben had taken up raising him jointly. Just six years later he’d been basically ordered to return to Britain.

He wouldn’t lie to himself and say he hadn’t been putting it off. He loved his easy-going life and had been in no hurry to get away from it. Volunteering at local shelters and figuring out a way to spend his fortune in ways that would help people, all the while learning what it meant to have a family. He’d seen it coming for months, years really. The moment mutants were officially revealed to the world he’d been apprehensive of how the magical world would handle it. Eventually America had announced the magical worlds existence, at least within their own borders and much of the world had followed suit. They had taken a mostly hands-off approach. Magicals had different concerns and thus had their own subset of government that mundanes, the new term, couldn’t hope to understand.

It wasn’t perfect and there was definitely discontent but compared to Britain it was idyllic. In typical British Magical fashion, the magicals had refused to cooperate with the mundane governments attempts to bring them out into the open. Muggle baiting, and outright murdering were at all time highs and Britain had been begging for Harry to come sort out this problem for them as well.

He’d resisted and resisted and resisted until five unknown magicals had murdered several high-ranking muggle government officials in an attempt to get them to stop pushing. Predictably it had shattered what thin veneer of civility had been in place and America had finally stepped in. By sending him home.

So, for the past thirteen years Harry had only gotten to see Peter at most three times a year, though it was really closer to once a year. He’d stayed as long as he could but he eventually had to leave once more. It killed him how little he got to see the boy, but there was of course no way he was going to bring Peter to the madhouse that had been Britain.

For Peter’s part; he was a squib like his parents and so had only had the faintest understanding of his godfather’s part in the magical world until Britain had finally released an abridged version of their magical history only four years ago. Even still the boy had always been unfailingly understanding of his godfather’s life and inability to visit. Which of course just broke Harry’s heart more.

With Britain finally stabilized Harry was excited to finally get some quality time with his godson. And then, only weeks before he was set to return to America the blip had happened. He’d called May only minutes after people had disappeared, scared out of his mind. He’d watched Ron dematerialize in front of his eyes. They’d been at the Ministry and so many people had just disappeared. He’d checked on Teddy first and been pleased the boy was still fine. But no one had answered his calls when he’d called to check on May.

He’d traveled to America to check on them and been horrified to find no evidence of either his godson or his family, or even his friends. He’d left the moment he’d confirmed it. It was too painful. Without Peter and May there, America felt empty. And then everyone had just reappeared. And still Harry couldn’t leave to go see his godson. There were so many things to do to help resettle in the half of the population that had appeared. It had taken him four months to be able to get back to America. He really should have stayed longer but he didn’t care anymore.

Two-hour long phone calls a week just really didn’t do it for him, not after so long of thinking the boy dead. Still Harry held himself still while the plane disembarked, knowing it was more trouble than it was worth to fight with the crowd to speed out. Thus, he was one of the last off the plane. Then came customs which were just tedious, especially for magicals. He tried to be understanding and not snap as he answered question after question. The American muggles were naturally suspicious of British magicals and he was made to wait three hours, in case he was polyjuiced. Finally, after walking through a modified thief’s downfall he was finally released, alongside his belongings. He couldn’t help but huff to himself about just doing that first as he stomped through the airport, keeping an eye out for his younger godson.

When he finally caught sight of the boy (who really shouldn’t be that tall!) he couldn’t help the smile that broke through all of his anger. He happily caught Peter as he launched himself at him. When they finally broke apart he shook his head, the child was already as tall as him. Give it a few months and he would be taller than him, “Merlin, I’m going to strap a brick to your head Peter.” Peter laughed, “That’s nothing May says she’s going to strap five pounds of bricks to my head! I think she’s mad that I’m taller than her.”

Harry laughed, “That’ll do it. Now how’s lunch sound?” It was his dinner, but New York was five hours behind London so it was lunch time. Peter happily accepted and began babbling about an Italian restaurant near his house. They began to walk towards the exit when Harry noticed they were headed the wrong way, “I thought May couldn’t come with you?” Peter blinked and stopped his stream of conscious babbling, “She couldn’t, why?” “The apparation point is to the left back there,” he pointed out dryly to his godson.

Suddenly the boy looked sheepish as he mussed up his hair, “Oh right, I forgot you’re magical. I kind of arranged a ride for us.” Harry shrugged without concern, “Well we can just cancel the cab, it’s the airport they can pick up a ride easily enough.” Peter shook his head, “Actually it’s my friend Happy.” Harry blinked, “Ah, well lead the way then. And explain who this Happy is.”

They continued walking while Harry studied his godson. The boy was looking even more sheepish and secretive, “He worked for Mr. Stark, I just got done for the day there and he agreed to give me a ride here and us a ride home.” It made sense and Harry would have easily accepted it, if it weren’t for his godson’s attitude. He was definitely hiding something, and poorly. Still they had reached the aforementioned Happy and so Harry was forced to let it go, for now.

The man lived up to his name and seemed very happy for a person driving a teenaged coworker around. The three chatted about Peter’s internship for the drive but Harry could see the tension of two people keeping a secret together. He suspected Happy would have been better at keeping the secret hidden if it weren’t for the way Peter kept shooting him worried glances. Still, Harry kept his peace until they arrived at the Italian restaurant.

Except his plan to interrogate his godson at the restaurant was waylaid by the fact that they were just getting take out. And then his plan to discuss it over lunch was completely put to the side by the fact that Peter was actually excellent at distracting him. He didn’t forget of course, but he genuinely wanted to know about his godson’s life and it seemed Peter knew that and was using it against him.

So, Harry waited until May came home and the three were catching up to spring the trap. He took a sip of the excellent Lemonade he’d been provided and asked, “So May, what’s Peter hiding and what’s it got to do with that Happy guy?” He was acting supremely comfortable as he asked it, something he’d perfected over the years after dealing with politicians, and so it was supremely satisfying to see Peter choke on own drink and look guilty. He smiled at the narrow-eyed look that May sent Peter, “I thought you told him.” Peter looked down, and then out the window, and really anywhere that wasn’t the two upset adults.

“I- I tried… but things- and he’s so worried- and busy. And really what does it matter- I mean-” Harry was pleased when he didn’t have to respond as May cut in, “Tell him.” They were two simple words but Harry was impressed at how Peter wilted and looked nervously at him. It reminded him of Andromeda, May was more relaxed and easy going, but she appeared to have just as much control over her nephew as Andromeda had over her grandson. And all thoughts of Andromeda and comparing her to May flew from his head when Peter spoke.

He still wasn’t looking at Harry as he quietly spoke, “I’m Spiderman.” Instantly every headline Harry had read about Spiderman flew through his head and he stood. He fought back the anger that was welling in him, using the breathing techniques he’d learnt to deal with politicians. But this wasn’t a politician. A crime fighter. A vigilante. Fighting with gods. The blip. Oh god the blip. Had his godson been involved in the fight? He’d thought he’d lost Peter and now the boy was out there fighting crime. He wanted to slam his head against a wall. He wanted to tie Peter up and never let him out of his sight. So many things and more.

When his mind calmed enough for him to speak he finally turned away from the fearful boy and back to May. “Let’s go for a walk.” Peter stood at the same time May did, “Really Uncle Harry, it’s not that bad. And it’s not Aunt May’s fault, it’s me-” Harry cut him off, “Peter sit down and wait here. If you follow us or if you’re not here when we get back I will hunt you down myself.”

The walk downstairs and onto the street was quiet, and they didn’t start speaking until Harry waved his wand and put up a privacy barrier. If the boy fought crime he surely knew how to go undetected so precautions were necessary. May started the moment the dome of magic faded from sight. “It happened about three- well I guess it was eleven years ago, god that’s so strange. Anyways his class had a trip to some museum or another and he was bit by a spider. I don’t know if it was magical, or mutant, or something else but one day he was a normal thirteen-year-old and the next he was insanely strong, could heal in the blink of an eye and had some weird Peter sense or something.”

At Harry’s questioning look she shrugged but smiled, “He can sense when things are coming his way and are a danger. He’s also got good hearing but this is more than that, he can dodge bullets Harry. I call it his Peter tingles.” Harry chuckled at the image conjured in his head of an outraged Peter. “Anyways you know that he’s always been a bit of an inventor, but after that his inventions became decidedly more spider focused. Still I didn’t make the connection until I literally walked into him wearing some high-tech super spider suit a few years later. I’ve known for about a year and a half.”

Harry forced himself to relax and he rubbed his jaw. He’d thought he had stopped gritting his teeth. “He’s a member of the Avengers. One of the last. He’s a soldier. Children do not belong in combat.” May sighed, “I get why you think that, and I do to an extent. But Peter won’t stop, he feels the need to help people. He’s got a saving people thing. I wonder who he gets it from.” She shot him a smirk but he wasn’t smiling, “That’s not an excuse.”

She turned serious again, “He managed to hid it from me for over a year, and I can’t adjust my work schedule without being unable to afford to live. So, we have rules, and he follows them. Homework comes first. At least seven hours of sleep, and he can’t miss school. And he can’t go outside of New York without telling me. And follow any rules Tony put in place.” “Tony Stark,” he confirmed and she nodded. “He’s a good kid who just wants to help.” “Stark’s dead,” Harry pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily. “Yeah, it really devastated him. But the man had some solid rules in place and he still follows them to the letter.”

They walked quietly for a time, Harry doing his best to calm down. “You know, I was more against it at first. I had started to adjust to it a bit before the blip, but after… everything’s different and people need someone. I know that’s too much to put on a kid, your life is evidence enough of that, but he was going to shoulder that burden whether or not he or I wanted it. I decided to guide him through that. And I see how much he helps people just by being there. Even if its just swinging around the city and not fighting crime on this day, it cheers people up. It helps them heal a bit to know they’ve got someone to protect them. And how can we deny them that?”

Harry swallowed, because that was exactly what he had been told after the war was over. _“Mate even when you’re just walking down Diagon Alley you’re helping people. They feel better knowing that you’re there for them!”_ But Harry couldn’t deal with that and he’d run off to America. It had been the best decision for his mental health but Britain had suffered. And he knew that if he’d been there from the start of the mutant crisis things would have been better. Those murders might not have happened… people might not have been so desperate. “Fine. I’ll help too.”

May accepted this and the two turned to head back to the apartment. They tried to catch up on more adult matters than they had been able to with Peter there but it was rather awkward. May had never been as at ease discussing his life in Britain as her brother and sister-in-law had been. Even Ben had been more at ease with it.

Harry was unsurprised to see a flash of red swing above his head but chose to be blind to it for the moment. He had bigger fish to fry than that rule being disobeyed. He was unsurprised to see a slightly ruffled Peter sitting on the ottoman attempting to look innocent when they finally entered the apartment. He rolled his eyes and walked towards the boy’s bedroom, with Peter nervously following after him.

Harry settled on his office chair and Peter sat awkwardly on his bed. “So, tell me everything. Not the watered-down versions that you give May so she won’t get upset. Everything. If you lie, I’ll know.” Peter nervously fussed with his hair and began.

By the time Peter was wrapping up, mumbling about going to blip support groups and charity events, Harry felt like killing the adults in Peter’s life who had failed the child. Including himself. But murder, as he’d had to stress to the magicals of Britain over and over again, was not the proper solution. It was a familiar argument he chanted in his mind and it calmed him somewhat.

“Peter, I know that I haven’t been there for you enough. And there’s no excuse for that.” “You-” Harry rose up his hand to stop Peter from interrupting, “No, there’s not. When I was living in America I visited Teddy at least once every two weeks via Portkey.” _It was hell on my bank account and body, but you don’t need to know that,_ he thought. “I’ll admit that Britain was such a disaster that I was constantly distracted and I didn’t pay enough attention to you or Teddy. But it’s still no excuse. And I promise you that if I ever have to go back to Britain I’ll do the same for you that I did for Teddy back then.

“But that’s not important for now. What is important is that I’m here now and I’ve got your back. What people are asking of you isn’t fair, Merlin knows I know that better than anyone. But since you’re insistent on continuing to be Spider Man, I’ll make sure to help you be better at this saving people thing than I ever was. Okay?”

Peter nodded hurriedly, eyes alight with excitement and launched himself at Harry, “Thank you Harry! Thank you so much!” Harry hugged the boy to him tightly, his instincts telling him it was wrong to let the boy to continue but his mind pointing out it was the right thing to do. He fought for calm as he held the child he had thought he had lost for too long. The child who had been suffering without his knowledge or help. The child he had failed.

“Okay, first things first. From now on I want the truth a hundred percent of the time. No exceptions and no excuses.” Peter nodded earnestly as he watched Harry unpack his meager belongings into the storage provided by his hotel room. Harry was already apartment hunting but since the blip housing was tight. He’d had an apartment for convenience’s sake before the blip, but had happily given it up afterwards when he’d thought his American family dead.

In all honesty Harry felt ridiculous for not already having this rule in place with Peter. But it was Teddy that was the mischief maker, not Peter. Peter was almost painfully naïve and so he’d never even thought it was necessary. Not that he thought it would have helped but still. He forced himself to move on from these thoughts.

“Next those vitals and location trackers that Stark had in place, I need them.” Peter’s face was the stereotypical pained teenagers and Harry hid his smile by turning away to straighten his dresser drawers. “I can take care of myself Uncle Harry! I swear!” Harry fought back his laughter and set his face in his _firm godfather_ face that he’d perfected with Teddy. “Nonetheless, there’s always someone stronger than you out there and I will be there whenever you need help.”

A dark look crossed Peter’s face, but it wasn’t directed at Harry. Harry lamented the fact that he was having to control his own thoughts so thoroughly on this trip. He was finding himself far too sad and mad. For instance, he felt a strong, violent need to destroy whatever it was that had put that look on the boy’s face. He couldn’t actually do that because the boy and his former companions had been excellent at cleaning up their own messes. So, he was stuck pushing the anger away.

Peter gave in within moments, all fight having left with whatever he was thinking about, “I’ll have to talk to Happy but we can do that.” Harry nodded in acceptance. “After that, I don’t suppose we could use Stark Labs, unless your internship is only a cover for being Spider Man.” Peter shrugged, “It is but I’m also allowed to use the labs with supervision, why?”

“I’m going to test your limits and then spend at least two days a week training you. You’ve had distressingly little training and that’s not the kind of thing you can just skimp on.” Peter’s eyes lit up at the thought, “Learning to fight from the Man-Who-Won! This is going to be so awesome!” Harry smiled, he didn’t like the title, but if there was anyone who could get away with using it, it was either of his godsons. Teddy mostly used it to tease him but Peter seemed genuinely in awe. It was disconcerting but useful he supposed.

“And finally, if you get in over your head you’re to call me immediately and I’ll come, no matter what I’m doing.” Peter frowned, “But Wizards aren’t supposed to be Superheroes.” Harry smirked, “And neither are teens but here we are. Also, you and I both know of at least five magicals who are superheroes. Read: Dr. Strange.” “I don’t think he was the same kind of wizard as you, though.” Harry shrugged, “The point still stands.” Peter nodded, “I suppose I can do that. We’ll have to pick out a name for you though. Maybe- No… Uncle Wizard? Nope. The Uncle-Who-Lived? That’s just stupid. Spider Uncle?” The boy shook his head and continued to mumbled to himself.

Harry interrupted, “You keep working on it. In the meantime, one final thing.” Peter glanced up from where he had been muttering to the floor, “Bedtime.” Peter laughed and declared, “Alright, but we’re going home my way.” Harry blinked, “Fair enough.” He cast a glamor, knowing his godson would object to Harry being seen with him and Peter laughed again, doubling up he almost fell off the bed.

Harry furrowed his brows and glanced in the mirror, only to see his face twisted like taffy. He huffed, he was absolute shite at glamor charms. He rose his wand to try again only for Peter to stop him, “No! No! You’ll be the Twisted Magician!” The boy continued to laugh and Harry shook his head, smiling, before turning back to focus properly on the glamor charm.

With that settled, once Peter had stopped laughing and shouting out random nonsense names, they set out. Peter using his web shooters and Harry on his broom. The first ten minutes- no who was he kidding- the whole ride alongside Peter had been disconcerting. First off Peter had gone from his awkward gangly godson to witty superhero with only a costume change. Second off Harry had never really considered how little there was to support Peter. Just some scientifically manipulated spider silk. Sometimes he swung through the air attached to absolutely nothing before firing off a shot of web that was less than the width of a quarter. He’d studied where the web had stuck to the buildings and found it spread out to at most the size of a dinner plate, often times less than that.

So, it was horrifying to see his godson flip around through the air with almost nothing supporting him. Not even magic. Still Peter had enjoyed himself and insisted on a race. To be honest, if he got over his worry for his safety, racing Peter was a lot like racing Teddy. After a minute or so he’d managed to actually get into it and they’d quickly started pushing each other. Harry was shocked to learn that Peter had initially been going slow to accommodate him, and he could in fact out race a Nimbus 2013.

He’d put Peter to bed, his art aching at the thought of the last time he had done this in 2012. Despite his protests that he didn’t need to be tucked in like a child, Peter had smiled and laughed at him. Seemingly at ease now that he’d put on the costume at least once that day.

Harry groaned on Monday morning as his wand buzzed angrily at him. The alarm spell was useful in that it didn’t truly go off until the conditions were met, aka he was fully awake. But it was also annoying as it grew ever louder and more annoying until he finally awoke. Thankfully only the caster could hear it or he was sure his neighbors would be complaining. Between drinking heavily not just last night but also Saturday night after he’d dropped Peter off at home both nights he was not in much condition to be awake at 6 in the morning, no matter that he was used to being awake earlier than this.

It wasn’t that he had to drop Peter off at school, as thankfully the boy could now get himself there. No matter how much anxiety he gave Harry with his preferred mode of travel. No instead Harry had to go to the New York Magical Government Building and based off experience the sooner he got there the sooner he could leave.

So, with exhaustion nipping at his heals he got ready and apparated out. He appeared at an apparation point near the building and walked through the doors. The inside and outside were like light and day. Aside from the fact that the inside was much bigger than the outside, the outside looked old and worn while the inside looked modern, clean and sharp. While muggles were now allowed into the building for various reasons many magical buildings, especially those designed for the public had yet to do much to attempt to stop hiding, aside from getting rid of the spells. Except Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, they were just as flamboyant as ever. His lips twitched at the thoughts as he sought out the visitors’ desk.

Eventually he managed to be led to a small office occupied by a bored looking wizard in muggle casual wear. Without looking up or otherwise acknowledging him the man passed him a clipboard of papers and Harry began the tedious process that was paperwork. It didn’t matter where one was in the world, magical, muggle, Britain or America, paperwork was always tedious and boring.

After a half hour he passed the paperwork back to the man who huffed at having to stop reading his magazine before skimming the paperwork passed to him. Harry could see the moment the man did his double take. He glanced up at Harry who smiled blandly and the man’s eyes widened. “If- if you’ll excuse me.” And with that the man ran out of the office so fast that if Harry didn’t know better he’d have thought the man had apparated.

After five minutes the man reappeared, “This way Mr. Potter. Or is it Knight Potter? Or the Boy-” Merlin why did they have to bring up the fact that he’d been knighted? He decided to intervene before it got out of hand, “Mr. Potter is fine.” The man nodded, “If you’ll just follow me Mr. Potter.” As they walked the man appeared to be sweating bullets. After several long seconds he said, “I apologize for my earlier rudeness, you must understand-” Harry waved it away, not in the least bit in the mood for groveling, “I understand, you’re fine.” The man babbled his thanks and his awe for the rest of the short walk and Harry was glad when he finally met the man’s superior.

With some relief he was pleased to find that Mrs. Randel showed neither thanks nor awe at meeting him, or if she did she was good at hiding it. After some brief pleasantries they moved on to the matter at hand. “So, you want to be a superhero despite being a British citizen and earlier expressing no interest in being one. Why is that?” Well the woman was certainly blunt, he would give her that.

“Aside from the fact that I have duel citizenship,” he began, then internally winced at her raised eyebrow. No matter how much time he spent around politicians he still couldn’t stand it when people lied or ignored facts. But that certainly wasn’t the best way to start this conversation, “I recently learned that I am related to a foolish boy who goes by the name Spider Man. As he will not see reason I have decided to assist him so he doesn’t get himself killed. And that may occasionally mean going into combat. I will also be training him.”

“I was under the impression you had no living relatives.” Oh, that was a low blow, he seethed to himself. He ran through some quick exercises to calm down. “Impressions can be deceiving.” He said no more, despite her intense scrutiny. “Very well, will you be attempting to join the Avengers?” Harry blinked blankly at her for a moment before shrugging, “I suppose if they’ll take me.”

She sighed, as if he was placing some great burden on her, which for all he knew he might be. “I’m sure between your illustrious history and your _relation_ you’ll have no problem getting in. Now, there are several steps to become a _magical superhero_.” And she began to lay them out for him. And several was an extreme oversimplification. By the time Peter got out of school his migraine had gone from hangover to extreme, his hand was aching with pain, and his magic was coiled painfully in his chest from overuse.

Despite this Peter still hugged him, in plain view of his friends, when Harry arrived to ‘walk’ him home. In between being teased by his friends Harry was introduced to them. Most important, of course, were Ned and MJ. The four walked together slowly. They stopped first at a Thai restaurant, as Harry hadn’t eaten anything but a granola bar all day. Then at a museum that was their favorite. He found it quite amusing that they had a favorite museum but refrained from teasing the teenagers too much. He also learned that MJ was quite a bit darker than Peter had portrayed her. And Peter’s crush was quite a bit more intense than Harry had suspected, much to his own amusement.

After the museum MJ was dropped off at her house before they went to Peter’s. The door had barely closed behind the three before Peter was excitedly bouncing up and down, “So how did it go?! Are you a superhero or did you have to go all MIB on their a- butts?!” He rolled his eyes over only to notice Ned looking confused. “Peter…” “Oh Ned knows, I mean not about you trying to become a superhero but now he does.” Harry chuckled while Ned’s eyes widened, “The-Boy-Who-Lived a superhero? I mean you already kind of were but that’s awesome! Are you going to be an Avenger too?”

Peter was now literally jumping, “Oh yeah! I didn’t even think about that! Will you join them?” Harry laughed, “I’ve got an interview with my handler and Pepper Potts-Stark next week.” “What’s a handler?” Ned asked while Peter did a happy dance.

“Your handler, you know the person that helps smooth the way with the local government and helps with tech and all that?” Ned turned to Peter, perplexed, “Why don’t you have one?” Peter shrugged, “I think Happy is my handler. I mean its never been said but he does all that stuff.” Ned nodded sagely and the two boys began to happily chatter about the intricacies of hero work. Harry leaned against the kitchen counter watching them. It reminded him of Hermione, Ron and Harry when they had been young. Suddenly his eyes widened, “Fuck! Hermione’s going to kill me!”

Peter started laughing, “You didn’t tell her, did you?” “I’ve got to find an international floo! Are you boys here fine on your own?” Ned nodded and Peter piped up, “I’ve got to patrol anyways. I’m sure you’ll be back before me.” Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy, “You’ll-” “Yes Uncle, I’ll contact you if I need help,” it was accompanied with an eye roll and Harry glared at the boy before turning on the spot.

“Harry James Potter! You promised me you would tell me before you ran off halfcocked on your saving the day shit! You promised! Suddenly all this paperwork appeared and somehow the Prophet’s got ahold of it already. Probably that damned Skeeter! The whole Ministry is in a tizzy and its all your fault!”

Harry grimaced and fought back the nausea that was threatening to overwhelm him. If international portkeys were hellish then the international floo was like sticking your head straight into hell. He was leant down into the floo with only his head all the way across the world and there was nothing more nauseating. He swore he could feel all of the land and water between his shoulder and his head. And of course, his face itched and his glasses were crooked but there was no way he was going to put an arm through the floo, he might actually throw up and then Hermione would lecture him about that too.

“I’ve been here for five hours over my normal time and poor Ron is doing what he can with the Prophet but I swear on everything that is sane and holy that if you ever pull something as ridiculous and asinine as this I will actually wear your guts for garters and look damned good in them. Now fill out this paper work and get it back to me.”

A deceptively thin folder was waved in front of his face and he grimaced and opened his mouth wide, hopefully. Hermione had no sympathy though and just narrowed her eyes. He sighed and carefully plunged his arm across the world to accept the paperwork. Sure enough, he threw up and sure enough that was another lecture.


	2. Learning From the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Harry talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed a few things about chapter 1 but nothing that changes anything in any major way. The biggest thing is that I took out things that referenced specific dates because that just confuses things and I'm not great at timelines.   
> Also sometimes when I'm writing and previewing my stories I just skip whole sentences and it takes me a few days to find what I missed and put it in. In the first chapter this just manifested itself as me missing Ned asking what a handler is which made the next few sentences confusing.   
> For notes on updates see the bottom.

His whole life he thought of his uncle as a happy go lucky man. So fun to be around, always a joke on his tongue and a treat in his pocket. He was quiet a lot, but his eyes were always laughing. When he did speak everyone listened and most people agreed or found whatever he was saying funny. He’d looked up to him his whole life, every time he’d fought back against a bully he’d thought of his uncle. Every time he passed a test he remembered his uncle fondly patting his head and taking him for ice cream. His uncle had spoiled him incessantly, and Peter was a curious boy. He’d taken him to the best museums, helped him pick a part electronics that sparked against his godfather’s magic, and helped him read advanced science books that even he didn’t fully understand.

But his uncle had to leave when Peter was young. The apartment that was on the top floor was closed up. They didn’t lay beneath the stars on the roof when Peter wouldn’t go to bed. Until he’d finally fallen asleep to the sound of his uncle quietly murmuring about goblin wars, his voice so monotone he couldn’t keep his eyes so open. There were no more bed time stories about adventures with three headed dogs, dragons and men with sparkles in their eyes. His uncle hadn’t released little flying balls of gold for Peter to chase around the apartment. There had been no more magic.

Every time he had visited Peter after that he’d come back more and more tired and worn down. His pockets were still full of candy, jokes were still on the tip of his tongue and he still spoiled Peter’s incessant need to explore the world around him. But each time he came back he was more and more different. He’d always given wise words of wisdom at random times, but now each time he came back they had _talks_. Some of them were contradictory at times but Peter wouldn’t realize that for a long time.

Just because a person is different doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with that. Always stand up for the little guy, when it won’t put you in danger. If someone comes up to you speaking in a British accent and reaching for a wand, run. Never feel like you have to do what those around you want you to do. You always have a choice. What is right isn’t always easy and what’s easy isn’t always right. The most important things in life are meant to be cherished. Go after what you want. And at the end was always: Be safe, Peter, and know that I will always love you.

And it was that last line, the one that was repeated so often, in person and on the phone, that was the reason he had never told his uncle about Spider Man. His uncle loved him and didn’t want him to get hurt. He’d understand, and probably even be proud. But he wouldn’t want him to continue. He’d want him to sit back and let the adults to handle it. And Peter just couldn’t do it. It was the right thing to do. Peter loved being Spiderman, he was important, and helpful, and doing what was right. And he cherished it, he really did. Just like he’d been told to do with important things.

He’d meant to tell him after the blip, it had been one of the first things he’d thought of. His uncle would know what it felt like to die and come back and not be dead but everything was different. His uncle Harry hadn’t told him about that, but his uncle Ben had, along with many warnings not to discuss it with the man. But he’d thought it’d be alright to talk about it now that he’d gone through it too.

And then, after he’d tracked down May and they’d figured out their housing situation, he’d called his uncle. The man he thought of as so strong and happy had broken down crying upon hearing his voice. And he just couldn’t. He’d started the phone call “Hey Uncle Harry. I have something kind of important to tell you.” He could still remember the dead silence on the other end for a long moment before he’d heard him choke out, “Peter- Oh god Peter!” And then he was just sobbing. In the end he’d just told the man he loved him.

He was thrilled when his uncle had announced, in that very first phone call, that he was coming back, for good. It’d taken longer than either of them would have liked, but he’d come back just like he said he would. He’d known that he wouldn’t be able to keep the secret for long, especially after reading more about his uncle’s escapades. He was a war veteran and he loved Peter. He would want to spend as much time as he could with him and Peter had to spend at least some of that time patrolling. He’d catch on eventually. He just hadn’t thought it would be that very first day.

He’d let himself think that the differences that were even larger than the last time he’d seen him were just because he’d learned about Spiderman. At first. He still gave him a sucker before bed with a sneaky smile and finger on his lips. But Peter hadn’t heard more than two or three jokes since he’d gotten here. And while he did laugh at Peter’s oftentimes overexcited antics, the chuckles were a bit hoarser, a bit more strained. And he watched Peter like he was going to disappear any second.

But it didn’t really sink in how different his uncle was until he sat on his office chair on Tuesday night, after he’d gotten back from patrol, and passed him a sucker while he studied the web shooters in his suit, trying to find a way to improve them. It had felt normal and he’d happily started to suck on it while he fondly remembered taking apart a toy electric car, many years earlier.

“Peter, do you remember the bedtime stories I used to tell you?” Peter smiled widely at the thought, “A bit, yeah.” They were some of his fondest memories, learning about all of his Uncle Harry’s adventures. But as he watched his uncle he realized that he had something serious he wanted to say. It was going to be a talk, and a far more serious one than they’d ever had before. His uncle had even managed to smile while Peter had told him about his antics, albeit solemnly. Now though his face was somber and his eyes so dark, like he was stuck in a tunnel he couldn’t see the way through.

It happened sometimes, when his uncle thought he wasn’t looking. But for some reason he wasn’t hiding it this time. It made Peter uncomfortable. It was too haunting and he looked down at his web shooters, fiddling with the dispensing unit so he had something to do with his hands. “Well there’s a lot more to it than anything I ever told you.”

He swallowed at the almost empty tone he’d said it in, “I know, I read about it online.” Harry smiled briefly but it died quickly and Peter didn’t see it anyways. “To say those were heavily redacted would be a grave understatement. I think it’s about time I told you about it. I won’t-” His strong, brave, war hero uncle’s voice broke and Peter almost felt like crying as he stared blankly at the sucker in his hands and the web shooter between his feet. Too much was different. His uncle wasn’t supposed to cry and be sad. He was supposed to be cheery and fun.

His uncle continued after a short, quick breath, headless of Peter’s inner turmoil. “I won’t sit here and tell you it all from start to finish, I don’t think I would even know how. But anything you ask me I’ll answer honestly. But first you should know some things.” Peter forced himself to look up at his Gryffindor uncle, a man he’d once called dada for three months on end until he’d finally been convinced to call him unca. Whatever he had to say was clearly important, and Peter decided not to shy away from it.

“When you built the suit and started swinging through the city, helping everyone you could, you had an idea of what you were signing up for. Maybe not fully at first. And I doubt you knew where it would lead. But you knew people wouldn’t be happy with you, that you had to hide. And you knew what responsibility you were taking on.” He glanced at Peter who nodded, slightly confused. He’d been thrilled at the time, to save people like his uncle and mom and dad. That didn’t mean he understood what his uncle was getting at right now though.

“I didn’t have that luxury. I grew up with no knowledge of magic. My aunt and uncle, well they hated magic, probably still do, and did everything they could to hide it from me. When my Hogwarts letter came they tried to run away, put us in a little shack on a tiny island of the coast somewhere. Hagrid came and told me about it,” his uncle was smiling, but it was still too sad of a smile.

“From him I learned how my parents really died. From him I learned that I saved magical Britain. I was thrown right into the deep end. Everyone had opinions about who I should be and how I should act. And I didn’t know any of it.” He chuckled darkly, “I insulted a lot of people just by not knowing things. Over the years I saved people because it was the right thing to do. But it didn’t know what I was doing and if you’d asked me I would have told you that I had no choice. I know now that I did, but it certainly didn’t feel like it.”

“And that’s why I came to New York after the war ended. I wanted to get away and this seemed like it was as good a place as any. I wanted to be normal. In fact, I still wanted to be normal for another ten or fifteen years. That hope eventually sputtered out and died, replaced with the knowledge that this is just my life. But I never understood the consequences of what I was doing, and a lot of the time I felt angry, and tired, and just mad at the world. So, some of things, while they’re important for you to know, especially if you’re curious, which I know you are… they’ll come out in a way different than you’ll expect.”

“Everyone thinks, even now, that I did it with courage in my heart and fire in my eyes. When I left I didn’t get a chance to paint my story in a light I wanted to be seen in. So, my acquaintances and friends painted me in the best light possible, brave and fiery and excited to take on the world.” Something occurred to him and he smiled, a real one this time. And he met Peter’s eyes, rather than just seeing through him to some distance past. “They made me seem like the man you really are Peter.”

Peter swallowed at the pride and pleasure in his uncle’s voice and eyes. Those green eyes glinted so happily at him, like emeralds he thought. He’d always suspected, always hoped his uncle would be proud of him. And it made him feel so happy, warmed him from the worrying and confusing conversation of only moments ago. He still was confused, but for a long moment he could smile and bask in this warmth. Finally, he cleared his throat, “So… so what you’re saying is, is don’t be upset with you when things don’t turn out the way others say they did?”

The light flickered in his uncle’s eyes, but it was still there, warming his eyes more than they had been at any point in this conversation. He tilted his head and responded, “I suppose that’s part of it. But the larger part is that, well I never wanted any of the fame or responsibility that came with being me. And you did. And that’s not a bad thing Peter, in fact I’m very proud of you for taking up that mantle. Even more so because you’ve kept it up this long, no matter how hard it has gotten. But some of my stories, while I’ll tell you how I feel now, I’ll also tell you how I felt then. And they might be discouraging. The real world is like that sometimes. But I don’t want you to give up or get angry on my behalf. If you stop I want it to be because you want it to be. And it wouldn’t be fair for me to take away, even accidentally, something that you love so much.”

Peter’s heart beat wildly in his chest as he stared up at his beloved uncle. It was everything he’d ever hoped and dreamed of and had dared to think would be true. Up until now he’d thought that his uncle might force him out of it, by making him train all the time and sit out anything more than a bike robbery. Like Tony had done what felt like forever ago. He was ready for more than that and he knew it. He’d fought in a war! He’d thought he would have to sneak around and get yelled at and lectured when it ended up in the news that he’d done something more than he been told to. But now, he realized, his uncle was telling him that he would truly help. That he wouldn’t try to take it away and even wanted to help. Really truly help.

He launched himself up, dropping the web shooter and clutching the sucker tightly. He hugged his uncle so hard that the man had groaned, “Merlin Peter! Only one of us has super strength!” But he’d wrapped his arms around him even as he’d said it. And when Peter had relaxed his grip nervously giggling, his uncle had laughed heartily in his ear. And things felt right again.

But. It was upsetting to learn how much his uncle hadn’t enjoyed the life he’d portrayed so nicely when Peter had been young. One of his favorite stories had been about his uncle battling a dragon in a tournament against three student several years older and coming in first place. It was strange to think that his uncle might have been shaking in fear and glowering at people for making him do it.

He settled down on the bed and his uncle swiveled to face him. But maybe that was alright. Maybe it was okay that his uncle was a bit darker and more haunted than he’d thought him. It sounded like maybe he’d always been like it and maybe Peter had just never seen it because he’d been so young.

And maybe it was even a good thing, because lately things had been getting harder. He’d fought in a war. He’d gone to outer space. He’d fought with and against gods. And he had died. And then come back. And he’d been thinking increasingly more often about what if someone else found out he was Spiderman, besides Ned and Liz’s dad. What would happen to May and Ned? And anyone else around him. And what if he died again? And people were asking him if he was going to be the next Iron Man. Which was a scary and terrifying thought. And with all this buzzing in his head it had been getting so difficult to concentrate on school.

So maybe it was a good thing that his uncle was a bit darker than he would have liked. Because maybe he could help him with all this stuff too. And he suddenly realized that that was also what his uncle had been saying. That if Peter needed help in school he would help like he always had. And if Peter needed help in the field he would help. And if Peter needed help with all the things rambling about in his head and making him doubt he would help.

He was pulled from his thoughts by his uncle gently uncurling Peter’s clenched fist. He chuckled lightly, “Not in the mood for suckers, eh?” Peter felt laughter bubble up again as his uncle swiped the shattered sucker away and tapped it with his wand. In moments the sucker was whole again and back in his pocket. “I guess not,” he replied with a smile as his uncle fished around in too large pockets.

“That’s alright,” his uncle replied still smiling as he finally pulled out a chocolate bar and passed it over. “How’s that?” Peter looked at it blankly for a moment trying to place the brand before realizing it must be a British brand. “Eat, you’ll feel better.” His uncle’s smile had become distant for a moment, as if quoting someone he loved, before zeroing back in on him. He watched as Peter unpeeled it and began to bite into the chocolate before fishing some out for himself and following suit.

And Peter did feel better, though he rather suspected it had more to do with the familiar gestures and the laughter than the chocolate. But the chocolate was excellent, if strange. And he nibbled in quiet camaraderie. He had finished his chocolate bar before his uncle was even half way through and the man stopped for a moment, “So, any questions?”

Peter swallowed but decided for something he hoped had been light hearted. “How did you meet Hermione and Ron?” Harry finished chewing before answering but he could already tell he had chosen well because the man was smiling around the chocolate.

“I met them at the train station to Hogwarts. I didn’t know how to get onto the train, it was at station nine and three quarters you see. And the station only had nine and ten labeled, no more. And then I heard Molly, Ron’s mum, yelling at her kids to hurry up. She said something about muggles and one of them had an owl with them, Percy. And I knew they must be magical. And sure, enough the eldest ran right at the barrier between nine and ten, and then went right through it! I thought they were nutters but I asked for help anyways and in moments on was on the proper platform.

“It was the first moment that had felt like I had truly done something magical for myself. With some help of course, but that didn’t matter. Later Ron was walking around the train, looking for a place to sit and I invited him in. He knew who I was of course, but after a minute he relaxed and we just had a good old time. Oh Merlin! I had forgotten for a moment, but when the trolley lady arrived offering us sweets I decided I wanted to buy the whole lot!”

Together Peter laughed heartily with his uncle and he relaxed against the wall to continue listening. “Oh, the trolley lady was so stern with us. It was only right of course, the trolley was supposed to have stock for the whole train and here I was, a first year who hadn’t even been sorted yet demanding every piece of candy on the train. And besides, what would I do with all that candy?” He shook his head smiling, “She gave us five pieces of each kind and was off, ignoring how we begged for more. And she was right too, we didn’t even finish what we had gotten.”

“And then a little while later Hermione came storming in right as Ron was trying to show off magic his brothers had shown him. She demanded to know if we’d seen a toad, that Neville had lost his. We hadn’t and hoped the bossy witch would go away. But then she saw Ron with his wand out and got him to try the spell. It didn’t work of course, Fred and George the pranksters had given him a bogus spell. They laughed quite hard when Ron complained to them later.”

“Then she lectured us about all the spells she’d already tried and all she’d read about me in the books she’d bought. And she was off looking for the toad again, leaving with a comment about how dirty Ron’s nose was. Oh, how we hated her at the time.” Peter was smiling, “So when did you become friends?”

Uncle Harry’s smile faded a bit, but he continued on nonetheless. “Ron had made her cry on Halloween, she had tried to help him in class and he was embarrassed and mean about it. She missed the feast and was crying in a girls’ toilet the whole time. And then, our ridiculous Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher released a troll to try to distract the school so he could scout out an important object in another part of the school. We were all sent to our dorms, but Hermione had no way of knowing that.”

“I slipped away, Ron hot on my heels and complaining all the way. We thought we were so clever when we locked the troll in a room, only to be horrified when it turned out to be the very room Hermione was in. We rushed in, with the three of us only knowing two or three spells each, and all the same ones at that. I climbed the troll and shoved my wand up its nose. Horrid idea by the way, it took forever to clean my wand and only confused the troll.”

“Then Ron levitated the troll’s club and knocked it out with it. And that was that, the three of us were thick as thieves. Ron and Hermione fought for years like cats and dogs, and Ron left a few times but always came back. And now Ron and Hermione are married with two little ones and another on the way.” He was smiling in full when he finished and went back to his chocolate to let Peter mull that over.

“Did you ever resent having to fight the troll?” He froze a bit and thought it over. “No, I don’t think I did. One of the only ones that I never did. Certainly, the Professors should’ve handled it and it’s a right crime they didn’t. But I don’t know what would’ve happened if we hadn’t. Would Hermione and I have been friends? Would Ron and I even be alive? Because I tell you without her we wouldn’t’ve made it past second year, if we even managed to make it that far. And she’s the best sister a man could have.”

Peter smiled, “Yeah, I guess having the British Minister for Magic as your sister would come in handy.” His uncle smirked at him around the last of his chocolate. “Cheeky brat,” he mumbled, mouth still full. And Peter laughed and stuck his tongue out.

Peter was quiet while his uncle chewed the last of his chocolate, gathering his courage to ask the question that had been sitting on him since the blip. His uncle waited patiently and it only took a few moments before he managed to ask it.

“It was strange… to die,” his uncle responded. He looked introspective, rather than sad. “I didn’t go into the big fight knowing I was going to die. I… I never truly believed I was going to survive the conflict, but towards the end there I was gaining some hope. Riding the high of so much success I suppose. But then at the last minute I got some news. Severus Snape, a man I had always hated and thought a traitor had actually been an ally all along. And had learned that the only thing left between Voldemort dying was me.”

Peter was as morbidly intrigued, “What made you know you could trust him, if you’d thought he was traitor all along?”

“Oh, he gave me his memories as he was dying. Changing memories is tricky at the best of times, and even then you can usually tell. But when you’re dying there’s no chance of being successful. Anyways Voldemort called a cease fire and it was announced that he would let everyone live if I sacrificed myself. I was already tempted but with that last revelation I knew I had no choice. So, I walked to my death.

“I felt strangely detached. Somewhere inside of me was this intense fear, but mostly I was just empty. Then I used a… well a device to allow me to see the dead. Its long lost now, but at the time I used it to see my mum and dad, and several of my friends who had died along the way. And they walked with me. They promised me it wouldn’t hurt and was as easy as falling asleep.”

Harry was quiet for a long time but Peter couldn’t bring himself to break it. “And it was, in more ways than one. I don’t fully remember what happened while I was dead, it has always felt like a dream. The further away from it that I get, the less I can recall. At this point I mostly only remember that I talked with Dumbledore.

“And then I woke up, and no time had passed at all. I stayed as still and quiet as I could and Narcissa Malfoy covered for me. I was presented to my companions as dead and they almost immediately revolted and I joined in. It was just more fighting until suddenly it was all over. And so many things were the same and so many were different.

“It was so hard to go from fighting and being on the run to rebuilding and living life. For everyone I think. I’d spent most of the past year with only Ron and Hermione and so we changed more than anyone else could recognize and everyone else changed more than we could recognize.”

Peter could tell the next part without his uncle even saying it. “So, you left.” Harry nodded slowly. “It was a good and bad decision. I needed it, I think. Living in New York was the quietest most simple time of my life. And I got you Peter. But so many people needed me. I don’t think they all deserved it necessarily, but they needed me. And things were worse off without me.”

Peter swallowed. It sounded like he was telling him to stick with it while also saying he’d understand if he didn’t. It was too contradictory and confused him. “Would you do it again? If you could go back and do it all over again, would you change anything?”

His uncle just shrugged helplessly, “I don’t think there’s a truly right answer. There are so many things I would have missed out on had I not come here, but there’s also surely plenty of things I missed out by not staying. I think the best thing I could say is this: no matter which path you choose, you’ll disappoint some people, help some people, struggle more than your fair share, and find happiness, sometimes in the most surprising of places. And of course, you can always go back and change your mind. Every day is a new day.”

Harry pulled Peter into a hug and he just gripped his uncle tightly, fighting back tears because he truly didn’t know the right choice here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I currently do not have a proper update schedule for this fic. The only thing that kept me moving on it was all of your kudos, subscriptions and the one comment (thanks Elaili!)   
> The biggest problem with updating right now is that I am going through some severe medical issues and am thus heavily medicated. This makes me spacy af which makes writing or even reading fairly difficult. This means the only time I can write properly is when the meds are wearing off a bit, which is also when I'm in the most pain. (Breathing is super important ya'll. Not breathing is super painful.)  
> Anyways what this means is that, while I am thinking about this and trying to write, its slow going. I try to make up for it by exploring Spider Man and his backstory even more than I already have (I've got HP down pat, don't worry about that). In the past few weeks I've forgotten more about Spider Man and plot lines for this story than I remember.   
> So please bear with me. And also your kudos and comments are definitely vital to keeping this story alive so please give me feedback! It'll make something rattle in my brain until I finally spew something forth.
> 
> Lots of love <3 
> 
> PS I don't have a beta so sorry for any further issues like the first chapter. I'll keep you updated in each chapter with any changes that I make.


	3. Visiting Friends

Harry had decided to join Peter on his patrol on the Wednesday after he had arrived. Unfortunately, his latest meeting with his handler had gone long so it wasn’t until shortly before five that he was able to meet up with the young man. He found himself grateful that he had insisted on the tracking tech in Peter’s suit as it wasn’t until he was flying through the air looking for the boy that he realized how much of a maze the city was.

When he finally managed to meet up with him, Spider-Man was chatting with the cops while they released a criminal from the webs he’d been strung up in. “So, you really don’t think we should be worried?” Peter was asking one of the cops, who waved him off.

“Nah, most of his operation was taken over by nearby mobs. Besides the dude’s older than dirt by now.” Just then the criminal dropped out of the webs and Spider-Man lunged forward and caught him before he hit the ground. In a few swift moves that were clearly habit, the man was righted onto his feet and immediately bound in handcuffs and pushed into a cop car.

Before the cops left, one turned to him. “I’ll see you in court, tomorrow, right?” The boy laughed, “Of course, I wouldn’t miss Judge Pearl for anything!”

The cop shook his head. “You’re crazy, man, she’s a mean old-”

“Ah, she loves me, you’ll see!” The two shared a laugh and the cop sped off. Harry took that as his cue and landed next to Spider-Man. “Hello there.”

Despite the fact that he couldn’t see the boy’s face, he could tell he was smiling, “It took you long enough! Let’s patrol!” And with that, he swung himself into the air. The two raced around the city until Spider-Man suddenly disappeared down to the ground. It was so fast it took Harry several seconds to figure out what had happened. By the time that he had turned around and met up with him the boy was scribbling on some paper while accepting the thanks of an older woman.

“Ah, it's no problem, Marge, you said?” At her emphatic nod he continued, “It’s no problem, Marge, always happy to serve. Now will you stick around for the cops or shall I leave your phone number for them?”

“Oh, I don’t mind waiting, I was just walking to the park.” Spider-Man nodded decisively and with that he turned and stuck the paper to a woman who was strung upside down to pharmacy wall. _Mugger stopped. Tried to take Marge’s purse. -Your friendly neighborhood Spider_ _-Man_

-0-

To be honest, Harry had expected there to be more danger involved in fighting crime, especially after the boy’s stories. For the most part, though, it was just slinging through the air and stopping petty crime. At one point the cops had even called Spider-Man in to help catch someone who had robbed a grocery store and had raced away in a car. Even that had hardly been dangerous, with him catching up with the robber at a stop light, taking the robber out of the car only to shove him, all webbed up, into the back seat. Then he’d just driven to the nearest parking lot and called the cops. He was gone before they had even arrived.

Now, after what the boy called a relaxing evening, they were sitting on the roof of a skyscraper, eating their way through a bag of chips. “So, have you picked a name yet?”

Harry smiled, knowing the boy wouldn’t be happy with his choice, “The Wizard.”

Sure enough, the boy groaned, “Come on! That’s so lame! You can’t just be the Wizard!”

Harry laughed and automatically reached out to ruffle the boy’s hair, before pulling it back, recalling that he was still wearing the mask, mostly. “I want a simple title for once, I’ve got too many that are hyphenated and what not.”

“Come on! At least go for the Warlock or something like that! The _Wizard!_ It’s so plain! There’s a whole lot of wizards, you’ve got to stand out!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Fine, the Warlock it is, but I’m not changing it again. Not that it matters anyways.”

The eyes of the suit frowned, “What do you mean?”

Harry shrugged and vanished his empty chip bag. “I thought I told you, the press in Britain has already gotten ahold of the story. The moment I stop a crime using magic is the moment they realize who I am and it’ll be all over the front page. It might even already be there, what with me flying around with you.”

Peter pulled the mask off and his eyes were wide. “This is so bad! What about May, she’ll be in danger!”

Harry tugged the boy over to him and squeezed his shoulders. “It’s fine, _Spider_ _-Man_ , almost no one knows about my life here. And I’ve already given May a way to contact me if she’s in danger. Between the two of us, I’m certain we can protect her.” Peter nodded but he was clearly still worried.

Harry bumped his shoulder. “Put your mask on, it's cold up here.”

Peter rolled his eyes but did so. “It's so sweaty, I’m not cold at all!” It was Harry’s turn to roll his eyes. Sometimes Peter was such a teenager.

“Speaking of Britain, I’m going to have to go back this weekend to do some damage control.”

The boy jumped up. “Oh! Can I come with? I haven’t seen anybody in ages! And Teddy and I have been talking and we want to do a race!”

Harry sighed, he never liked turning people down, most of all his godsons. “Peter…”

“What? You said there was almost no danger anymore. And I can take care of myself now!”

“Pete, that was before the blip. Ever since it we’ve had people protesting again.” Harry vanished the boy’s trash and readied himself to leave, but Peter wasn’t done yet. “But why? You’ve never told me why.”

“The British Magicals have always been isolationists. After the people blipped away returned, magical groups and nations around the world offered to help the suddenly massive population; duplicating food, getting farms up and running again, working out all the logistics. But the British Magicals tried to refuse. With Hermione’s help, they’ve managed to organize some help, but Britain is in dire straits again. Another civil war is brewing and me leaving, again, and this time helping another nation, isn’t being well received.”

They had started heading home while he spoke, but Peter had evidently heard everything he’d said. He landed on a building for a moment to say, “Again? As in, that's why you left last time? A civil war?”

Harry nodded. “Yes, I put it off, but it got too severe and I finally had to step in.”

Peter landed on the broom for a split second and it was only Harry’s long practice with squirming children riding with him that allowed him to prevent it from crashing. “I still want to go.” And he was off again.

The two bickered for the rest of the trip home, but in the end, Harry gave in. The boy was just too stubborn and Harry had too much of a soft spot for him. He’d always had a hard time saying no.

-0-

Friday after school, the two went directly to the airport and boarded a plane, after dealing with customs. It was just as tedious as the last time Harry had gone through, but this time he also had Peter with him. Since they were traveling together, they both had to have the same level of scrutiny and Harry was thankful that he had sent the Spider-Man suit through the international floo and directly to Hermione’s office. That way they didn’t have to deal with any hullabaloo over that.

The flight was 12 hours long and thankfully Peter had fully charged his phone before they had left, so he was entertained the whole ride there. Harry, meanwhile, got to finish the book that he’d tried to read on his trip to New York. Still Peter fell asleep with four hours of the flight left, though Harry had never been able to sleep on planes no matter how often he rode them. So, when they finally got to London at around four in the morning, got through customs, and apparated to Grimmauld Place, they both were ready to collapse with exhaustion. After being shown to a room that Harry had always held for him, Peter passed out.

Harry however was not quite so lucky, as he had noticed the kitchen light on. He found Teddy asleep at the kitchen table, books spread around him, and a cooling pot of tea on the stove. He gently shook the boy awake and chuckled at the sight of ink smeared across his face. Evidently he’d fallen asleep on some parchment work. “What are you doing here?”

Teddy groaned and squeezed his eyes shut before glancing at his watch and groaning again. “Fight with ‘dromeda,” he muttered.

Harry frowned. “Well, up to bed. You can get this all later.”

“You’re late.” Harry prodded the stretching boy towards the stairs as he murmured, “Customs.” As he saw his second godson to his bedroom, he couldn’t help but worry about the fun-loving boy. He was working towards an internship with Charlie at the Dragon Reserve in Romania but first had to gain a mastery in either Healing or Magical Creatures. He was working with Hagrid for the Magical Creatures internship, which naturally resulted in a plethora of injuries.

As little as Andromeda liked his Magical Creatures Mastery, she hated that he wanted to work with dragons and the two fought over it incessantly. Harry himself was naturally worried, but he trusted his godson to do his best and be as competent as possible. Still, he refused to put himself in the middle of their, by now years long, argument, and instead only offered Teddy a place to sleep. Of course, the fights were getting worse as Teddy’s Mastery was nearing its end and Harry suspected that Teddy was likely spending most nights at his house, if the disaster he called a room was any indicator.

Despite the fact that he would really rather go straight to sleep, he knew Andromeda would be furious if he didn’t at least report their shared troublemaker’s presence. So, he penned a quick letter stating exactly that and sent his most recent in a long string of owls, Athens, off. He was finally allowed sleep at half five.

-0-

He was woken far too soon at seven by the boisterous arrival of the Ronald branch of the Weasley family. Unsurprisingly, Peter was still dead to the world, as Harry found out as he passed his room, but he threw a silencing spell at the room nonetheless.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs, he found his kitchen was filled with people; Ron was at the stove cooking breakfast, Rose was lounging on a counter, smirking and teasing her distressed father, and Hermione was rubbing at something on Hugo’s nose while talking to Teddy, who was working his way through a bowl of cereal. Evidently, someone had cleaned up the mess Teddy had made the night before as the books and parchment were stacked on a counter precariously.

“So, you got permission to let the monsters out for a bit?” Harry asked Hermione. Hugo scowled and pulled away from his mother, though whether the scowl was for the categorization or because of his mother he couldn’t tell. The boy stomped off to a corner of the kitchen and put in some earbuds and closed his eyes. Harry shook his head at the moody boy and turned back to his mother, who had finally given Teddy some relief from her inquisition to scowl at Harry. Teddy took advantage of her distraction to toss his bowl in the sink and run off with his books. Well there went his chance to tell the boy to clean his room and take care of his own dishes. There was no way he’d be able to escape Hermione before the boy left for the day.

“Harry James Potter…”

Harry sighed, “I’m here Hermione, and exhausted mind you as I only got to bed a few hours ago. What more do you want from me, right now?”

Her eyes narrowed and Rose laughed nearby. “Don’t you take that tone with me, young woman!” The girl was scarily dead on with how well she mimicked her mother’s voice and Hermione scowled at her as well.

“Rose, get off the counter. Harry, come with me.” Harry sighed and followed her, noting that as they were leaving the room, Rose hopped right back up onto the counter.

Sometimes, he thought as she led him to his own sitting room, that she felt like he was one of her children as well. “How’s number three doing?” he asked to put off the lecture as long as he could.

Hermione sighed and ran a hand over her extended abdomen. “She’s fine.”

“And due soon?” he added, though he knew her due date as well as her.

Something she clearly knew, if her narrowed eyes as she sat down were any indication. “Five months. Now, oh sit down if you’re so tired.”

He followed her directions. “When’s the press conference?”

“It’s at ten, here’s your talking points.” She passed him the roll of parchment she pulled from her purse. “Note that we need to emphasize…”

-0-

Peter was woken by being jumped on. He groaned as they rolled off of him, but made no mood to get off of him. “Hugo!?!” he shouted as he got a good look at the boy next to him.

The boy smirked roguishly at him. “The one and only.” Peter shoved the boy he had, until thirty seconds prior, still thought of as kid, off of the bed. He’d known that his British family members would be teens, but that didn’t make it feel more real.

He eyed the boy as he dug through his suitcase for some clothes. He’d taken up residence on his bed once again, this time sitting, and was putting an earbud in. “Have you heard Eminem’s most recent album?”

Peter shook his head. “I’ve never been much for rap. May doesn’t like it.”

Hugo rolled his eyes. “Adults. It’s a shame, he’s good. I’ve missed his work.”

Peter frowned as he pulled on some pants. “Somehow I can’t picture Hermione letting you play rap in the house.”

Hugo shrugged. “She’s not a fan, but Teddy always has been and she lets him get away with anything.” Somehow Peter had a hard time believing that, but he didn’t much care to argue the point. He jumped in surprise as he was about to put his shirt on. Hugo had whistled at him, “Damn, you’ve got some intense abs.”

Peter rolled his eyes and finished dressing. “What’s for breakfast?”

Hugo shrugged as they left the room and began to head downstairs. “No, really, where’d you get those abs?”

Peter rolled his eyes. “The abs fairy. Certainly not from exercise or anything crazy like that.”

Hugo sighed. “I run up and down stairs all day long, you’d think I have something to show for it.”

“Mabey you have crazy muscular-”

As they reached the kitchen, Peter was interrupted by none other than Ronald Weasley. The man swung a frying pan full of eggs around wildly. Eggs flying across the room, he demanded. “Hugo Weasley, are you dating a Malfoy!?!”

“-legs…” Peter mumbled quietly as he slunk across the room, doing his best not to interrupt the fight that was brewing.

Hugo glared defiantly at his father before turning to face his sister. “What the fuck, Rose!?”

Maturely, she stuck her tongue out. “It’s not my fault you didn’t tell them! I thought they knew!”

Ron slammed the nearly empty pan down onto the stove. “It’s true!”

Hugo crossed his arms. “Yeah, it's true! What of it! So what if he’s a boy!?!”

Ron spluttered and Hermione and Harry took that moment to join them. “What’s going on?”

Ron managed to stop spluttering to say, “I don’t care that he’s a boy! He’s a Malfoy! A Slytherin!”

Before Hugo could respond, Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. “If you’ll recall, our eldest is a Slytherin as well.”

Ron’s eyes were wide, “Right- well… Still! A Malfoy!”

Hermione rose an eyebrow, a universal sign of danger in mothers. “And?”

Ron stared at his wife as if she was insane before helplessly yelling, “A Malfoy!”

Hermione gently ran her hands through her son’s hair. “I for one accept that Hugo is dating Scorpius. Children are not their fathers. And if you recall, his father was acquitted.”

Ron narrowed his eyes at his wife. “Did you know?” At his wife’s careless shrug and slight smirk, he growled, “How could you not tell me?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his tone. “Careful, Ronald, we both know what happens when you use that tone of voice with me.”

The man flushed red and his daughter snickered behind him. When he next spoke his voice was softer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hermione approached him and laid a hand on his face. “Dear, I simply heard a rumor. I figured Hugo would tell us when he was ready and there was no point getting worked up until then.” Ron sighed at his wife’s calm logic and they all knew that she had won.

As the adults began cleaning the mess Ronald had made, and finished making breakfast (or remaking as the case may be), Peter approached Hugo. “So… what’s the deal with Malfoys?” Hugo scowled at him.

-0-

Harry approached what very well could be a lynch mob with no small amount of trepidation. He’d been in far too many press conferences, but he’d never felt directly responsible for them. Indirectly, sure, and certainly guilty, but never directly responsible. Interspersed with angry shouting reporters were people who just looked betrayed and of course it was that kind of person that Hermione called on after saying her piece. They were doing their best to make it sound like it was an attempt at increasing the nearly shattered relations with the Americans. They pointed to the murder of an American journalist some seven years previously as the start of the devolution of their relations with the Americans who had before that been as supportive as they could be.

As for why they hadn’t told anyone yet, well, they’d planned to, but someone had leaked the documents while everything was still pending. It was all a very well-planned idea, one that Hermione had gone over with him thoroughly. And yet he still didn’t feel ready. In fact, he felt like he’d been hit in the chest with a curse at the first question. “And we’re supposed to believe this isn’t just another attempt to abandon the British public for the Americans again?”

It was a good point, and even somewhat based in truth. He’d of course never meant it that way, but there was no doubt that he was being quite selfish at the expense of the British public. Still Hermione had prepared a talking point and he found himself appreciating her for it. “I am absolutely not abandoning the British public, as you can tell by the fact that I’m here. It is my intention to split my time between America and Britain as evenly as possible.”

The next question was one that he hadn’t quite believed would be asked, though Hermione had warned him about it nonetheless. “And will the Americans be sharing Spider-Man with Britain?”

He swallowed his disbelief; he really shouldn’t have been surprised. “For the time being Spider-Man is an American based superhero. However, if things truly become dire here and we have need of it, we are free to call on him.” _Over my dead body_ , he added internally. There was no way he would let Peter near them.

The rest of the press conference progressed as Hermione had expected it to. Not that Harry was surprised, at this point in her long political career, she was an expert at handling the press. That’s what happened when you managed to be the Minister throughout and after the civil war.

Hermione called out that it would be the last question at a quarter till eleven. They had mostly moved past the fact that he was going to be a superhero, thankfully, and moved onto the latest in their talks with the goblins, and now were finally onto their continuing problems with getting dragon entrails imported. Despite that, the last question was directed at Harry. “Sir Potter, are you encouraging your godson to work at the dragon reserves in the hopes of encouraging the Reserves to have better relations with Britain?” Harry blinked at that, having truly not expected it. He opened his mouth to refute it when the press room began to flash red and several aids rushed into the room.

-0-

After breakfast, Peter and the Weasley siblings flood to the Burrow, with Ron going with Peter. Peter was apparently a squib, which meant that he could use the floo, but he wasn’t allowed to go alone as squibs tended to get lost in the floo. He had forgotten just how disorienting the floo was, though, and decided he would rather just side along with someone.

They were greeted by the owners of the Burrow, Molly and Arthur Weasley, the parents of Ron and Hermione. Already present were a veritable crowd of people, only some of which Peter recognized. Still he smiled, the Burrow was always a fun place, no matter how many people were there. He was immediately found by the elder Molly Weasley, who was offering food to everyone as they came in. He accepted an apple and began to chew it as he was shuffled from person to person and reintroduced.

Finally, there was a call of Quidditch from someone and the group shuffled out. It was apparently a case of adults versus children. Ron was on a team with George, Angelina, and Bill. Opposing them were Dominique, who was younger than Teddy but older than Peter, Roxanne and Molly, who were both blipped away and thus were younger than they were supposed to be, with the vertically challenged adult Audrey joining the team to even out the sides.

Peter was unfortunately grounded with the other adults who didn’t want to play, as brooms didn’t work for squibs. It was a shame, as the game seemed fun. People darted around the air chasing after specially enlarged and charmed apples, whooping and cheering all the way. He tried to listen to the adults’ conversation but most of it seemed to go over his head, either because he didn’t know the people involved or didn’t understand the magic. After a while of doing his best not to sulk, he finally accepted Hugo’s offer to let him listen to his music. He was just starting to enjoy the rap when Fleur asked him for help in the kitchen for lunch. With nothing else to do, he accepted her offer.

He automatically dodged when his (not his Peter Tingles!) senses told him something was about to slam into him. He turned in surprise to find that Ron had tripped on his way running into the kitchen and had slammed into the counter where Peter had been cutting vegetables.

Ignoring his own fall Ron straightened and addressed the other adults in the room. “I’ve got to go. Emergency at the Ministry. An attack. I’ve got to leave the kids here.”

The elder Molly frowned. “Be careful, dear. Remember who you have to come home to.”

He nodded and dashed out, Peter hot on his heels. He yanked him away from the apparation spot. “An attack? What kind of attack? Let me come with you!”

Ron frowned at him. “Listen, I know that you’re used to fighting crime, but this is a whole other thing. These are magicals.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “And I’ve fought with gods, I can help!”

Ron huffed and glanced around for help. When none was forthcoming, he relented. “Fine. Your suit is at the Ministry. We’ll have to be fast, though.” To himself he muttered, “Harry’s going to kill me.”

-0-

Moments after they stopped spinning, Peter was off and running with directions to the Minister’s Office. He hopped over a barrier for wand inspections and darted to where the stairs were off to one side, noticing how long the elevators stood open to allow people to enter and leave. He made it to the Minister’s Office in record time, though he hadn’t bothered to time it and so had no way to know this.

The secretary stood at the sight of him, but he easily hopped over her desk and banged his hand on the Minister’s door. He dodged the spells that flew his way as he waited for her to open it. Finally, after he had already knocked four times and a guard had arrived, a harassed looking man opened the door. Before people’s shouts could warn him to shut it again, Peter barreled through, dodged another spell, and rolled to a stop.

“Stop!” Hermione’s voice was as firm as it was loud and made them all wince from the volume. Despite her words, three more spells had already made their way towards him and it was only his fast reflexes that allowed him to avoid it. Moments later, a box flew at him, but this time it was from the Minister so he caught it. “Tell Harry that this is Ronald’s fault.” He nodded and turned to leave.

Hermione huffed, “Let him through, he’s a guest.” The people in his way appeared weary of him, but did as instructed and Peter was off and running again, this time to a bathroom.

It was a scant three minutes after Peter Parker had left the Minister’s Office that Spider-Man arrived in the Auror’s office. Everyone was focused on the briefing at hand and so the room was mostly quiet and thus noticed when he slammed the door open, while also ignoring their secretary. Wands were automatically aimed his way, but they stopped with spells on the tips of their tongues when they spotted who he was.

The heavily scarred man they were all paying attention to spoke first, “I thought you were joking, Weasley…”

Ron stood from his seat, “I told you I wasn’t Hardy. Everyone, as you’ve already guessed this is Spider-Man. He’s on loan from America for a mo’, mostly in case he was needed to smooth the whole ‘Warlock’ situation over. But for now, he’s going to be on civilian duty. Obviously don’t curse him and don’t attempt to release his webs. Between Stark, Harry, and Spider-Man himself, this stuff is practically impervious to magic. There’s one way to get it off and he knows it.”

With that, they settled in for the briefing in the way only professionals who had gone into magical battles could do. They could turn people into hippos, a man spider was hardly the craziest thing they could think of.

The attack was on a skyscraper in the middle of London that the Magical Volunteer Service had outfitted with space expansion charms and housed over four hundred muggles and around a hundred magicals, of which a large population were women, children, and those who were not able-bodied. There were teams that were going to be reinforcing the building to prevent it from collapsing, there were teams that were to put out fires and any other magical damage that could spread to nearby buildings, there was a team dedicated to catching the people who are attacking, with lethal force authorized, and finally, there was the team working with Spider-Man to rescue civilians.

With the ends of each of their individual teams were portkeyed out, each outfitted with a bag full of portkeys to send the injured to the hospital.

-0-

It took Peter several moments to orient himself after arriving by portkey on the downtown street. By the time he had done so, his teammates had abandoned him like the drunken stumbling idiot he was. He shook his head of the last of the cobwebs as he took stock of the scene. The building itself contrasted heavily with its neighbors, and would do so even if it weren’t under attack. Aside from it being on fire, it was also made entirely of stone and was a particularly long and thin pyramid, rather than the rectangular buildings that surrounded it.

As for the attack, the top portion of the building had been lopped off and had slammed into a nearby building, as their briefing had reported. That left the building open to the air, and the rain that was unfortunately hammering them. If only the rain did anything against the magical fires, but as it was it also did nothing to hide the skull and snake symbol that floated menacingly above the building, preventing direct apparation and portkey into and out of the building. It had been mentioned as a possibility in the briefing, but had not yet been confirmed. He also noted that there appeared to be no one on broom around the building, though they could be hiding in the rain.

With these facts well in hand, Peter shot himself upwards into the rain. He landed deftly on the building and quickly climbed it. He hoped that by entering in a different way than his teammates, he might be able to find some civilians that would have had to wait longer. There was no one on the top floor that he could tell so he easily hopped through a massive hole in the floor and was pleased to hear screaming. He’d been right!

Contrary to what he’d been ordered to do in the briefing, he could not cast ventilation spells to clear the air of the heavy smoke that occupied the floor. With almost no visual element available to him he had to rely on sounds and his ‘senses.’ He found a wheelchair-bound man, on the ground next to his wheelchair letting out a hacking cough. Peter gathered the man into his arms and launched them out the thankfully broken window, sliding down the side of the building.

He was pleased to note that they had adapted as they had been ordered to and half of the team was out running people back and forth out of the limited portkey and apparation range. The man was quickly taken from him and he rushed back up the building. He was searching the fourth floor from the top when he ran across an area of the floor that was suspiciously clear of smoke. Suspiciously clear because he knew the rest of the teams had not yet made it up to this point. And yet he heard nothing…

His mind fogged for a moment before the magic defenses Stark had built into the suit kicked in and he was informed that a repelling ward was in place. He charged forward, turned a sharp corner, and immediately heard and saw a woman screaming and writhing under a man’s wand. A blood red beam of light was connecting the wand and woman and without thought, Peter tore the wand away from the man with his spider silk.

He automatically broke the wand before the man had even fully turned towards him and in moments the man was strung up to the wall by spider silk. The woman had still not stopped screaming and writhing despite the spell no longer being cast and it took Peter several minutes to get her to the evac team. He was informed she was likely undergoing the worst torture curse there was, the Cruciatus Curse.

With his stomach churning at this new information Peter forced himself to continue his rescue mission. He tried not to think about the fact that several people he found were likely always going to suffer lingering effects from the curses he found them under. Some went insane, the evac member had informed him. Too much pain does that to a person.

It was only when he ran almost face first into an attacking wizard, identifiable by their pitch-black robes, skull mask, and pointed hood, that he was able to fully focus. It was necessary when they were aiming those same curses he had been fretting about at him. He ended up spending several seconds dodging the man’s fast paced spell casting. Finally, he managed to attach some silk to his legs and that was all it took for him to throw himself in a full circle around the man and pulled him to the ground.

Apparently, the wizard was not done yet though, for an exploding curse was flung at him next, shattering the wall behind him. It sent debris flying into the air and allowed smoke to enter the magically cleared air. Peter had stuck the silk to the ground and so the man couldn’t move much, but he did manage to fire off several spells, each flying dangerously close to Spider-Man. And with the limited visibility, he couldn’t see well enough to snatch the wand away without getting close or getting a lucky shot in.

Fortunately, a fellow attacker arrived to help the other wizard and got off an exploding curse. It was fortunate as Spider-Man was able to dodge the spell and instead the first attacking wizard’s chest exploded outwards. With the companion wizard distracted by the fact that he had killed one of his own, he was easy pickings and was quickly strung up to the wall.

Peter forced himself not to think about the fact that they very well may have killed one of their friends or family members. They were the ones using lethal force, not Peter. He would never do that on purpose like they were. He dashed off and went in search of _innocents_.

He’d made it down to the fifteenth floor when he ran into some friendlies who were caught in a fire fight. The air was thankfully free of smoke so Spider-Man was free to do his best to tear wands away and trap people to walls. He tried not to think of his own fallen friendlies when two people dropped right in front of him, and instead launched himself across the considerably cleared battlefield.

The spells were thick and fast, his companions not stopping casting simply because he was in the midst of the field. He had almost gotten to the one who had downed the two irrevocably when something slammed into his side. He went flying to the wall behind the attackers and slammed into it at full force.

Before he could properly get his bearings, uncontrollable pain tore through his body, making it feel like the melting stone he’d seen so much of that day.

-0-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Roxanne and Molly II were blipped as was Arthur though it’s not as noticeable.  
> Also, I do not know anything about what JKR has said about the second gen, nor do I care. I kept the names and number of children mostly consistent mostly for ease of remembering names.  
> I hope you enjoyed! Please leave comments, they are my fuel.  
> Lots of Love


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